Charisma
by WallofIllusion
Summary: Mia's first day at Grossberg Law Offices is... eventful, to say the least. Rated K for Diego's flirting, just to be safe. Part of my "Never Crying" saga.
1. Chapter 1

Not my first PW fanfiction ever, but the first one I'm going to post.

Thanks to Rob (Sebastian Stark on Court Records) for beta-reading this!

This isn't technically Miego. ...Yet.

* * *

"Miss… Fey, was it?"

Mia stiffened as the man at the other desk spoke to her. Hammond—a man whose name she knew well. She would have preferred to ignore him, but if he was going to challenge her…

She looked over at him coolly. "That's right."

"I haven't heard that name for years." There was a lazy look to his wrinkled, sagging face, an uncaring superiority. His eyes were only half-open as he looked at Mia. "You're not, by chance, related to the infamous Misty Fey?"

_Infamous?!_ Mia took a deep breath, refusing to let the man rile her up. "She's my mother," she told him in the same disinterested tone as before.

"Ah, I see. Your mother. Tell me, how is she doing these days?"

He was _trying_ to anger her, wasn't he? He wouldn't have asked that if he didn't already know of Misty Fey's disappearance. "I wouldn't know. I haven't seen her in ten years, ever since a certain crooked lawyer's crooked defense of a guilty man ruined her."

Either he was wholly unbothered by the comment, or he assumed that Mia didn't know that that "crooked lawyer" was sitting right in front of her. Either way, he went on in his snide tone, "I suppose you must have been quite young at the time, so it would have seemed that way to you, but I assure you, your mother was the one in the wrong."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not saying that she was a fraud, per se, only that perhaps her 'powers' were not at their peak that day, or perhaps Gregory Edgeworth was particularly difficult to reach. If only she hadn't chosen to compound the problem by giving the police a name…"

Mia stood abruptly, red splotches of anger in her cheeks. "If you're going to insult my mother, Mr. Hammond, do not patronize me by _pretending_ to believe in her! You're a coward now, too, just like you were back then—"

Suddenly there was a firm hand on her shoulder, restraining her. "Easy there, Kitten."

Mia whipped her head around and found herself staring into the face of a brown-skinned man with wild black hair. He was smirking widely at her, his eyes confident, mocking, and intrigued all at once. Mia could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks, and she let herself believe it was because she was embarrassed at being caught bickering, not because of the dangerous, irresistible charisma of the man's smile.

"Who are you?" she demanded, twitching her shoulder as if to shrug the man's hand away. The man's hand did not move.

"Diego Armando," he answered, his smirk widening even further. "Best lawyer at the Grossberg Law Offices. Nice to meet you, Kitten."

Mia shoved his hand off her shoulder and glared at the man—the lawyer? He had to be kidding. A lawyer wouldn't flirt like this, wouldn't smile at her like she was his favorite meal—lawyers just didn't act like that! "My name is Mia Fey," she informed him.

As if he hadn't heard, Armando asked, "Do you drink coffee, Kitten?"

He—was he hitting on her? "N-no, I don't!" Mia answered, cursing the fluster that came through in her voice.

"We'll have to remedy that, then, won't we?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and steered her down the hallway. "Step into my office."

"Said the spider to the fly," Mia finished, pushing the man's hand away again and refusing to take another step.

"Ha…!" Armando held his hands up in surrender, but his eyes didn't seem to have gotten the memo—they still had that charismatic and overwhelming light to them. "That's 'parlor,' Kitten, and it's nothing as sinister as that. I just want to have a chat with the office newbie and treat her to some of the best coffee she's ever tasted… that's all."

He waved towards one of the doors—the one with his name on a plaque—and as Mia breathed in to retort, she caught the scent coming from that office. It was the scent of coffee, so rich and aromatic it practically had color. She'd lied earlier. She did like a good cup of coffee… on occasion.

Armando sensed her hesitation, and he flashed her one of his smiles again. "Well? How about it, Kitten?"

Glaring boldly up into his eyes, Mia demanded, "What do you want from me?"

"Ha…!" The man's whole face lit up as he let out that laugh. "Just what I said, Kitten. A friendly chat over coffee, nothing more."

"That's not what your eyes say," Mia pointed out flatly.

The man laughed again. "Can I help it, when what they see is so attractive?" he asked, moving his face towards hers. Mia blushed, incredulous that this man would say that so brazenly. All the time, he stared insistently into her eyes, as if to show off that he wasn't looking… elsewhere. "I'm better-behaved than my eyes are, Kitten. What, do I come off as untrustworthy?"

No, he didn't. Despite everything—despite the way he looked at her, the way he harassed her—she felt more embarrassed by this man than actually wary of him. Of course, that could just be his charisma…

He opened the door to his office, and again Mia was hit by the aroma of fine coffee. She glanced from the office—probably the best in the building, with an oak desk and a window as long as the far wall—back to Armando, who was smirking at her still.

"Up to you, Kitten."

Common sense told her not to, but she was feeling—daring. Just daring, she told herself, not curious, certainly not attracted. So she stepped into the office, not looking at Armando because she knew he'd just smirk in triumph. In any case he followed her in, leaving the door open, and went to the coffee maker on his desk. Pulling two mugs from a rack on the wall, he filled both and offered one to Mia. "Enjoy. It's blend #102—my favorite."

"I usually take cream and sugar…" she said, accepting the mug hesitantly.

Armando sighed and shook his head at her patronizingly. "Do me a favor, Kitten?"

"What?"

"Try it first, before you strangle the flavor with those… condiments."

Obediently, Mia ventured a sip—and blinked in surprise. "I-It's good," she commented. The flavor was rich and strong, almost with a hint of walnut to it. "…But still," she added after a moment, "I'd like some cream and sugar, if you have any. I'm not good with the aftertaste."

Sighing again, Armando reached into his desk and handed her the "condiments," as he'd called them. "You're ruining a perfectly good blend, you know."

Mia stirred the cream in first, then the sugar. Armando clicked his tongue at her disapprovingly and said nothing else.

After a moment, Mia said warily, "You wanted to… chat?"

"I was kind of expecting you to start, Kitten," Armando replied. "After all, you got Sour-face out there to talk. That's no mean feat."

Mia turned bright red, both with embarrassment and with renewed anger at Hammond. "H-he started that!"

Armando's eyebrows went up. "Well, well…" he commented slowly. "That's even more intriguing. And just what did he want to talk to you about, Kitten?"

Mia scowled and didn't answer.

"Something about… your mother, was it?" Armando pressed.

Mia tried to make her scowl fiercer, but she had a feeling Armando wasn't impressed. "You're awfully nosy," she accused.

Armando shrugged unconcernedly. "It's a good trait for a lawyer."

"Not if that lawyer means to make friends," Mia shot back. Ugh, why had she let him drag her into here? He was just a prying flirt with apparently no respect for other people. She set the mug down on his desk, still half-full, and turned sharply to leave.

He laughed. Again. "Hey, Kitten, wait. Wait."

"My _name_ is Mia Fey!" Mia snapped, whipping around to glare at him.

He was unbothered, still; on the contrary, he seemed just as amused by her outburst as he did by everything else. "All right. Miss Fey… I hope we can be 'friends.'"

His eyes were mocking and overconfident, but—as Mia found herself looking deeper, almost against her will—there was warmth and joy in them too. Genuineness. It was almost impossible to keep from smiling back at him when he smiled like that, and despite her best efforts, she felt her glare reduce in intensity as a flush crept up the back of her neck.

No! She wouldn't let herself be charmed by this man. She gave a huff. "That depends on your attitude, doesn't it?"

"Ha…! I suppose it does. See you later… Kitten."

Refusing to let her blush spread to her face, Mia turned her back on Armando again and strode out of his office. He was infuriating. The way he smiled… it was like he thought he could own her. Like it was only a matter of time before she fell for him. Well, he may have been able to charm _other_ girls, but she'd never let herself fall for this man, for his smirk, for his overconfident laughter that was still ringing in her ears as she returned to her own office and sat down rather vehemently. He was just an arrogant flirt, and she would _never_ fall for him.


	2. Chapter 2

When Mia arrived at the office the next morning, she found that an empty white coffee mug had been placed on her desk. She scowled at it, quite certain of who had put it there. Pushing it aside, she sat down and started up her computer. For a while, her duties would be purely administrative, mainly classifying and filing cases that the firm handled, and while she didn't relish the thought, she'd make sure to show Grossberg that she was a valuable employee.

She had only been working for a little while before she heard that laugh.

"Enjoying the coffee, Kitten?"

Mia glared over the top of her computer screen. Armando was leaning in the doorway, mug in hand; judging by the steam drifting out of it, he'd remembered to put coffee in _his_.

"I might, if you had actually poured me any," Mia retorted, then wondered if she shouldn't have. She sounded like she'd actually wanted something from him.

Taking that as an invitation, he meandered towards her desk and peered into the mug. "Look at that. How silly of me," he said, smirking and giving her a sidelong glance, like a conspirator. "You'll have to come over to my office and get some, then, won't you?"

She should have known that was coming. Snorting furiously, she shoved the mug into his hands. "Take your mug back to your office and let me work in peace," she hissed.

He didn't take the mug, though. Instead, he grabbed her wrist, easily pulled her from her seat, and led her towards the door.

"H—Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Mia cried.

"Making friends," he replied, smirking. "C'mon, those files'll still be there later, if you _really_ want to deal with them. In the meantime, I'm giving you a chance to network with one of the best lawyers in the district. Don't tell me you're turning me down?"

That arrogance again! It was almost to the point of parody, except Mia was fairly certain that he was serious. But before she could make a real escape attempt, he'd already dragged her to his office and filled the mug. He handed it to her without cream or sugar.

"Here you go—oh, and let me be the first to tell you, Miss 'Fey,' that you have one hell of a fascinating family history."

Mia started, nearly spilling the coffee he'd just poured for her as her face turned a dark red. "Wh-what are you talking about?" she protested.

"Ha…!" Armando laughed in her face. "Come on, Kitten, if you're trying to play coy with me you'll have to work a lot harder at it. I get the 'coy' act all the time, and they usually do much better than this. Obviously, I'm talking about this 'Kurain Spirit Channeling Technique' business."

"You—what'd you do, go home and Google me?"

"Yep. Or, to be more specific, I Googled your last name, coupled with Hammond's. I wanted to see what could have possibly gotten that sour-faced old man to start a conversation with you. The search turned up quite a few interesting results, let me tell you. Mostly about the disgrace of Misty Fey—your mother?"

Mia slammed the coffee mug onto Armando's desk and stared up into his face, her eyes burning. "If you dragged me in here just to mock my mother—"

"Hey! Easy, Kitten, easy—who said I wanted to mock your mother? If I wanted to make fun of you, I'd call up Sour-face and we could tag-team. That is, I assume, what was going on yesterday?"

Mia didn't answer, and she continued to glare.

Armando shook his head and tried to hand the coffee back to her. "Listen, Kitten, I want to tell you something. I don't like Hammond. I don't like his personality, and I _hate_ his defense style. Clients aren't people to him, they're points to be scored. I've been with this firm for years, and I've seen him get obviously guilty clients off the hook based on technicalities. …See where I'm going with this?"

Mia thought she did, but she wasn't about to let down her guard. She didn't take the coffee.

"Kitten… when it comes down believing either a spirit medium from an apparently well-established line of spirit mediums or a lawyer like Hammond… Surreal as it sounds, I'd go with the spirit medium every time."

Mia couldn't help the gasp that escaped from her lips or the way her hand shook as she accepted the coffee that Armando finally managed to press into her hands. He—he believed her mother. Someone from outside Kurain believed her mother—when even some of her relatives had their doubts. She tried twice to speak, but she didn't know what to say—thank you seemed like too little, and at the same time, because he'd been so casual about it, too much.

Armando took her stunned silence as a chance to stir first cream, then sugar, into her coffee. Only when he tried to coax the mug to her lips did she shake him off, take a sip, and finally say, "Thank you, Mr. Armando."

And he gave her that smile again and said, "It's nothing. I know you like that stuff, after all… silly Kitten."

She took a few more silent sips of the coffee, feeling Armando's eyes on her all the while. They were more intense today, more searching, not like the casual interest he'd shown yesterday. The honest curiosity in them made Mia's cheeks go pink.

"So…" Armando said after a moment. "Don't leave me hanging here. Can you do it too, Kitten?"

Mia stiffened as the rest of her face went pink, too. Of course he'd ask that. She gave Armando a curt glance to warn him away from the topic and told him evenly, "I gave that up when I decided to become a lawyer."

His eyebrows went up, and he breezily ignored the warning in her eyes. "Which means you can," he concluded, "you just don't."

"It's not up for discussion," Mia snapped.

"All right, all right," Armando said placatingly. "I'm not trying to pry. You can't blame me for being curious, though, right? It's not every day you meet a spirit medium, and a skill like that sounds like it'd be quite useful for a lawyer—"

Wholly indignant, Mia shot Armando the fiercest glare she'd ever given—and, shockingly, he stopped, mid-sentence. Having silenced him, she said acidly, "Mr. Armando, I don't know exactly how much snooping you did, but I'd think that any slight investigation into that case should be enough to show that spirit channeling and the legal world do not mix."

Armando gave a soft sigh, his lips pressed together. He waited a moment to see if he'd be lectured further. When Mia only continued to glare, he said, "I didn't mean to offend you, so I'm sorry if I did. As I said, I'm simply curious about a colleague's unusual skill."

"And as _I_ said, the topic is not open for discussion. I left that world behind me. …And quite honestly, it isn't any of your business to begin with."

"I suppose it isn't," he agreed, smiling his easy smile. That smile was just his answer to everything, wasn't it? That charismatic, irresistible smile that tugged at the receiver to smile along, that tugged at Mia, now, to forgive his prying and simply appreciate his interest in her.

…She would have none of _that_, so she pursed her lips and finished off her mug of coffee.

When it was gone, though, she no longer had an excuse not to look at him. He was still smiling at her, and he held out his hand for the mug. "More, Kitten?"

It was like he was asking whether she'd forgive him or not… and she hadn't decided yet. When he smiled like that, it was easy to forget that he'd dragged—literally dragged—her away from her work, easy to forget even that it was only his smile, certainly not his personality, that was doing its best to charm her. It was easy to forget there'd been cocky, self-assured hunger in his stare yesterday, not merely interest.

However, when he opened his mouth to say, "C'mon, Kitten, it's not a hard question. Let me help you decide," and tried to take the mug from her hands himself, those things abruptly became easier to remember. Mia shook her head suddenly, partially at him, partially at her own distraction. The fact that he had an amazing smile and claimed to believe her mother did nothing to change the fact that he was arrogant and nosy and altogether flirty. As long as she remembered that and as long as she was aware of the dangers of his smile, he wouldn't be able to charm her wits away from her.

"I need to get back to my work," she said firmly.

"Ahh, fine. If you insist." Armando shrugged and placed the mug on his desk. "Do you have any plans for lunch, Kitten? I may not look it, but I feel bad about snooping and pestering you, so why don't you let me make it up to you? I know this really great sandwich place—"

"Mr. Armando." Mia almost had to give him points for sheer audacity, but she wasn't about to be pulled in. She smiled coolly and said, "I'm going to have to ask you to stop with those rather transparent attempts at seduction… at least until you can manage to get my name right."

He laughed again, not in the least bothered by her assessment of his actions—which meant, no doubt, that she was correct.

"Well, unfortunately for the both of us, Kitten, you still are a kitten. When you can prove to me that you're not quite so naïve, that's when you won't be 'Kitten' anymore… on one condition."

"And that is?"

"That you let me treat you to lunch that day."

Mia snorted curtly. "I make no promises, Mr. Armando."

"Ha…! Then neither do I, Kitten."


End file.
